Iron Dragon's Advancement Journey

Page 177

　“If you play any more pranks,” Kara said coldly, “I’ll make you regret ever hatching. Understand?”

　"Oh, how scary." Chaturio exaggeratedly shrank his neck, comically mimicking a pet's submissive posture by lowering his head to the ground, but the curiosity in his eyes remained undiminished. "But seriously, I admire you Atheros. It's truly remarkable that you can maintain unity in this era."

　This surprised Kara. She carefully examined the bronze dragon and noticed that besides playfulness, there was also a kind of...sincerity in its eyes?

　What are you trying to say?

　Chaturio's grin faded. "It's nothing, I just think that if all dragons could be as united as you Atheros, perhaps we wouldn't have to fear any dragon frenzy."

　It pointed to the center of the basin: "Just watch, there's bound to be another argument soon. The Golden Dragon wants to be the leader, but the other dragons aren't having it. In the end, they'll part ways on bad terms, each going back to their own homes, waiting for Dragon Madness to defeat them one by one."

　"You see things quite clearly."

　"Nonsense, I'm a five-hundred-year-old copper dragon." Chaturio's smile returned. "I've witnessed three dragon gatherings, and each time it ended the same way. That's why I'm curious, how did you anthracite dragon manage to do this?"

　Kara paused for a moment, then said, "Because we share a common goal."

　"Goal? What goal?"

　"Survive." Kara's answer was simple and direct. "When you watch the Holy Land being destroyed and your fellow countrymen being slaughtered, you'll understand that surviving is more important than any vague notion of pride or independence."

　Chaturio fell silent, a rare occurrence. After a long while, it finally spoke: "But you are a dragon, not an anthropomorphic dragon."

　"There's no difference," Kara said without elaborating. "I, and the rest of the Atheros, chose to follow Casalos. Not because he was powerful, but because he gave us hope."

　Just then, the entire basin suddenly fell silent, with only the rustling of the dragon's wings and the slapping of its tail on the ground.

　Kara and Chaturio simultaneously turned to look down into the valley. There, two massive rock formations resembled natural platforms. Behind the upper rock formation was an arched opening, dark and deep, its interior obscured.

　A moment later, eight enormous, ancient figures slowly emerged from the cave entrance, one at a time, forming a solemn procession and taking their seats in turn. The scales on their winding dragon bodies shimmered as if polished by a group of servants, and their eyes, which had melted into pools of gold, were even more piercing, with curled "whiskers" hanging down from their lower jaws.

　The seven golden dragons returned to their positions on the low rock ledge. The eighth, the largest and last to appear, stood proudly on the high rock ledge, a position that made him superior to all the dragons in the basin, creating an aura of supreme dominance.

　This is Lares, the Dragon King chosen by the Golden Dragons, the King of Justice. The other seven dragons are the Dragon Lords, his guards, and his cabinet ministers.

　The gold dragons, and a few silver dragons in particular, were quite disapproving of this display. Few other dragons were willing to acknowledge any authority above them. Nevertheless, any dragon would surely feel a sense of awe upon seeing the immense power and imposing presence that Lares displayed, and Kara found herself to be no exception.

　At this moment, even the normally noisiest bronze and brass dragons were as silent as statues. The bronze dragons ceased their discussion, and the silver dragons sat gracefully at attention.

　"I must say," Chaturio muttered to himself, "that old guy still has quite the presence."

　Kara glared at him, signaling him to shut up. Although she also felt that this kind of pomp and circumstance was too pretentious—in contrast, Casalos never did such things—it was still appropriate to show respect in this situation.

　Lares slowly surveyed the entire basin, making sure all the dragons' attention was on him before speaking. He used a dragon language grammar that reeked of antiquity and decay—that's how Casaloz had described it to Kara, and Kara agreed with Casaloz's assessment.

　"My kin, brothers and sisters bound by blood," the Golden Dragon King's voice, booming like a bell, echoed through the valley, "thank you for answering my call, for coming from afar to gather here."

　"Would it kill you to speak like a human being?" Chaturio muttered under his breath. "All this fancy stuff is exhausting to listen to."

　But his complaints were quickly drowned out by Lars's next words:

　I know that you have traveled a long way and are weary from your journey.

　"So, would it kill you to leave a few barrels of fine wine and freshly hunted game?" Chaturio continued to mutter.

　“If it were him,” Lares continued, “before the secret meeting, I would have welcomed you all with the lavish hospitality and honors you deserve. But the situation is urgent and cannot be delayed. You must have already noticed your recent restlessness and anxiety. This is no coincidence; it is an omen of impending doom.”

　He paused, allowing the news to spread among the dragons. Sure enough, whispers began to circulate.

　"The Dragon's Fury is coming," Lares raised his voice, silencing all other noises. "And this is no ordinary Dragon's Fury; it is a cataclysmic event unseen in a thousand years."

　This caused an uproar throughout the entire basin.

　"Dragon Madness? Are you sure?"

　"I knew something was off with me lately!"

　"Oh no, oh no, last time during Dragon Madness I almost destroyed my own treasure vault."

　At the other end of the valley, a lithe silver dragon, bearing several vivid battle scars, rested on a high stone platform, flanked by her retinue. She was tall and slender, and even her numerous wounds could not conceal her heroic spirit.

　"Your Majesty," her voice was clear and strong, "can we be certain of that?"

　“Yes,” Lares said, prepared for this question: “All the omens agree. We, the diviners, have observed the heavens and heard the rivers. The celestial phenomena are unusual, the stars are out of place. The earth's veins tremble, and the rivers weep. My fellow diviners and I have all concluded that we are insane.”

　His voice grew even heavier: "What's more, gentlemen, can you see the changes within yourselves? A thousand sorrows, a burning rage, a heart filled with wickedness. When I sleep, even my dreams will reveal madness."

　Although the wording was awkward, the dragon language of runic writing wasn't distorted, and Lares' words resonated with many dragons. Indeed, everyone's temper had worsened lately. Things that were once tolerable were now intolerable. But no one suspected the dragons' rage, simply attributing it to their own bad mood.

　"The dragon's madness is coming. Nations tremble. There has never been a dragon before, nor will there be one after," Lares continued. "Its arrival will be slow, like spring rain nourishing all things; its force will be fierce, like a mountain collapsing and the earth splitting. It may last for years, or even longer. Those imprisoned will find it difficult to escape. The true dragon's rage will sweep across the seas, poison the loyal, and harm even distant relatives. Do not forget, protect even the smallest creatures from its madness."

　“Alright,” said the greatest dragon lord, “at least our ancestors taught us that for us dragons who can take human form, transforming into a human or other harmless little creature can preserve our sanity. Dragons that haven’t cultivated themselves into spirits can bury themselves deep in their nests, so deep that no matter how much pain and madness they experience, they cannot dig themselves out before their sanity returns.”

　"No, Tamarand." Lares shook his massive head, his dragon whiskers swaying with it. "This is an unprecedented upheaval. The ancestral laws, effective in ancient times, are no longer applicable."

　“Then what should we do?” asked an old brass dragon, whose wings and the edges of its membrane were green.

　“We are in slumber,” Lares replied, “a supernatural slumber. Otherwise, rage will awaken the dream dragon.” He spread one of his sail-like fins to reveal a golden dragon perched on another protruding rock, and continued, “Most of you know the Nexus, or have heard of it. This dragon is the most powerful mage among us.”

　The golden dragon known as the Nexus nodded its head in gratitude for the Golden Dragon King's affirmation. Unlike the majestic appearance of other dragon lords, the Nexus was slender and thin, looking much like an ancient silver dragon. If one disregarded the vast magical aura emanating from its body, it would not resemble an ancient golden dragon at all.

　"He created a magic spell that can bind us into a deep sleep, making it impossible to break through."

41. A Group of Dragons

　As soon as Lares finished speaking, a chorus of discussions rose and fell throughout the basin. The dragons gathered in small groups, their various dialects of dragon language mingling together, creating a rumbling sound like hundreds of blacksmiths simultaneously striking anvils at different rhythms.

　A bronze dragon rose from the eastern rock ledge. Kara recognized him; it was Uriel, his wing membranes riddled with small holes from battle, the edges of his scales tinged with a bluish-black hue with age—clearly a veteran who had seen countless fights. It slowly spread its wings, waiting for the commotion to subside.

　"Demonstrate it to us." Uriel's voice was as steady and powerful as a war drum, instantly silencing the whispers around him. He turned to the nexus atop the high rock ledge, his dragon head slightly raised. "We will preach and teach this magic within our respective groups."

　The bronze dragon's suggestion was immediately echoed by many other dragons. Several brass dragons flapped their wings excitedly, clearly thinking that learning such magic would be a good topic of conversation. Even the usually reserved silver dragons showed interest.

　However, Lares slowly shook his massive head, his dragon whiskers cascading like a waterfall. He took a deep breath, exhaling two wisps of pale golden smoke from his nostrils.

　"Unfortunately, Uriel." The ancient dragon language of the Golden Dragon King echoed through the valley, each syllable carrying the weight of a thousand years. "This is no better course of action than to appease the madness."

　He paused, his gaze sweeping over the expectant dragons in the basin: "Only exceptional mages, those who have reached the ancient era and whose skills surpass all others, can cast this spell."

　These words shocked all the dragons. Take the golden dragon as an example. When it reaches the Primordial Age, it is equivalent to a 19-year-old sorcerer, which is almost the pinnacle of mortal spellcasting ability. Going further, it is a legendary spell—developed by the Nexus, which is undoubtedly a legendary spell.

　But that wasn't all. Lares continued, "Furthermore, this spell will remain in effect until the mage dispels it at the appropriate time." His voice grew even more solemn. "If a dragon beast, dwelling alone in its nest, were to mistakenly cast this spell, it would slumber forever."

　A collective gasp filled the valley. This spell couldn't be dispelled automatically; it essentially condemned him to eternal slumber—what difference was there between that and suicide?

　"Therefore," Lares' tail slammed heavily against the rocks, sending up a shower of pebbles, "we all need to stick together and look out for each other to ensure our safety."

　Chaturio whispered in Kara's ear, "Group up? Make a group of dragons group up? Why doesn't he just say teach fish to fly?"

　Kara's tail brushed against him gently, signaling him to be quiet. She could sense a subtle shift in the atmosphere. The initial anticipation was turning into doubt, and the doubt would soon turn into opposition.

　Sure enough, Tamarand, the largest of the seven dragon lords, slowly rose from the low rock ledge. Every movement he made was filled with majesty, and his golden scales shimmered like molten gold in the sunlight.

　"What should we do?" Tamarand's question was simple and direct... Kara always felt that this guy was a shill.

　Lares seemed prepared. He straightened his back, making himself appear even taller: "You and I will build a sanctuary in the Lead Mountains."

　His gaze swept over the other six dragon lords: "Your fellow dragon lords will establish six similar sanctuaries in Faerûn."

　At this point, Lares's voice grew even louder, even abandoning his awkwardly grammatically incorrect dragon language, as if to ensure every dragon understood his plan: "When the Dragon Frenzy arrives, all of us will fly to the enclave to rest and submit to the Demon Binding. The Illusion Veil will protect the enclave from invasion, and we, the giant dragons capable of taking human form, will take turns guarding it and awaken our kin when the Dragon Frenzy subsides."

　He paused briefly, allowing the information to settle, before continuing, "Each guardian dragon guards for only a few hours at a time, then awakens the next guardian dragon to join the collective unconscious. This is to prevent him from being overwhelmed by madness."

　The gathered dragons looked up in astonishment at Elder Golden Dragon. An eerie silence fell over the valley, broken only by the howling of the mountain wind.

　The subtle movements of many dragon heads, necks, wingtips, and tails became more complex: gathering all the dragons in a few fixed locations, subjecting them to magical bindings, and relying on the protection of a few dragons—this plan sounded very unsettling to every dragon.

　To Kara's surprise, the first to object was Tamarand. This dragon lord, whom Kara had judged to be a traitor, slowly lowered his head, adopting a respectful yet firm posture.

　"Your Majesty," Tamarand's voice was steady and powerful, "in my dragon life, nothing has been more honorable than serving you as my sovereign."

　This opening remark made many dragons prick up their ears.

　"But you understand better than any dragon," Tamarand continued, "that for golden dragons, the Lord of Justice is always a source of wisdom, an advisor and judge in disputes, not a master who commands absolute obedience."

　He raised his head, his golden dragon eyes staring directly at Lares: "And dragons of other colors have never pledged any allegiance to you."

　Lares reacted swiftly. A dangerous glint flashed in his dragon eyes, and a burnt smell emanated from his nostrils and mouth. It was a prelude to an imminent burst of dragon breath, causing several nearby young dragons to instinctively take a few steps back.

　"What do you mean by saying this?" The Dragon King's voice boomed like thunder, his ancient dragon language becoming even more obscure in his rage. "You think I'm plotting to seize the throne of half the dragon race?"

　"I believe you won't do that..." Even in the face of the potential wrath of the Dragon King, Tamarand's voice remained calm.

　"I believe you will," Chaturio muttered in Kara's ear, completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere.

　"...But I worry that some of these dragons might make that assumption." Tamarander's tone shifted, becoming sincere and caring. "We are a proud and independent race. Asking them to docilely allow us to lock them up with magic is a difficult request for some of these powerful dragons."

　He paused briefly, as if choosing his words carefully: "If we could come up with another way to put the theory of the Nexus into practice."

　Lares's anger seemed to subside slightly by these words. He took a deep breath, swallowing back the dragon's breath that was about to erupt. The Golden Dragon King's gaze shifted from Tamarand, slowly sweeping across the entire basin.

　"I have tried many times without success." There was a hint of weariness in his voice, as if this problem had been bothering him for a long time.

　Then, to the surprise of all the dragons, Lares made an unprecedented gesture. He lowered his head slightly—something almost unthinkable for an ancient golden dragon, especially the King of Justice.

　"My esteemed dragons," his ancient dragon language softened considerably, "I have no grudge against you, nor have I ever sought a higher position."

　Whispers arose again in the basin. Many dragons were caught off guard by this sudden change.

　"When disaster strikes unexpectedly, a true dragon must emerge from the mountains to avert its harm; this is my only wish," Lares continued, his voice filled with sincerity. "Before we face our tribulation, I implore you to heed my words. After the tribulation, I promise that we will part ways, and you will each soar to your own corners of the world."

　He paused for a moment, then uttered words that shocked all the dragons: "If you all forgive me, I swear to abdicate on the day the calamity ends, and let the Golden Dragons choose a new King of Justice to succeed me."

　The promise was like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, stirring up a fierce and turbulent discussion among the dragons.

　"Nobody wants you to step down," Uriel's voice broke the commotion. There was a hint of impatience in the old bronze dragon's tone. "But Tamarand is right. Nobody trusts your plan."

　It pointed its tail at the sky beyond the basin: "Our enemies are countless: the evil branches of our race and inferior creatures, those lizards covered in colorful scales, those crippled dragons, and humans, dwarves, and elves who cannot distinguish good from evil. They only want to destroy us and plunder the treasures in our lairs. If they discover us, all the metal dragons will lie helplessly in your sanctuary, like egg thieves discovering a nest of eggs..."

　Uriel didn't finish his sentence, but all the dragons understood his meaning. Gathering all the dragons in a few locations and binding them with magic—this was practically handing a huge gift to those who coveted the dragon treasure.

　Lares reacted even more violently than before. He stood up abruptly, his massive body fully extended, his wingspan obscuring half the sky.

　"I have told you!" the Golden Dragon King roared deafeningly, blue and yellow flames leaping and burning around his massive fangs and on his forked tongue. "We will guard the sanctuary. Is this not difficult to understand?"

　The oppressive aura of the King of Justice swept across the entire basin like a tsunami. The young dragons trembled in fear, and even the usually boisterous bronze dragons remained as still as statues.

　Bronze dragons are the most warlike of the metal dragons, and if their cause is justified and the pay is substantial, they often volunteer to join human armies. Uriel, however, clearly hated being reprimanded or singled out as an idiot. It suddenly spread its wings, bent its legs, and assumed a standard pouncing stance. Its long neck swelled slightly from the electric current, and the ionized oxygen filled the basin.

　The atmosphere in the basin instantly became extremely tense. Many dragons were prepared to dodge at any moment. The battle between the two ancient dragons was enough to raze the entire Fangqian Mountain Range to the ground.

　However, having experienced countless battles, Uriel ultimately managed to control its temper. It slowly withdrew its attack stance, merely growling, "I understand everything you say, just as I understand your boundless wisdom."

　Its voice carried a hint of sarcasm: "But then again, no dragon is absolutely reliable."

　To Kara's surprise once again, the Golden Dragon King did not fly into a rage. Instead, his expression turned serious.

　"That's quite true," Lares said slowly, his anger replaced by a deeper emotion. "However, the heavens have their own way, and in this desolate time, I have something far superior to my meager knowledge to guide me."

　He took a deep breath, a mysterious light flashing in his golden dragon eyes: "I possess a dream bestowed upon me by the gods."

　This statement plunged the entire basin into silence once again.

　"The Illusory Mirage Technique of the Dream-Showing Demonic Nexus is a unique remedy for warding off madness and disaster," Lares's impassioned voice resonated with power. "Otherwise, we will turn human cities into scorched earth and drive the insects back to the barbaric age."

　A pained glint flashed in his dragon eyes: "We will slaughter all living beings until the nation is utterly devastated. We may commit the heinous act of genocide."

　Finally, Lares let out a heart-wrenching cry: "Is this what you wanted? Is this what you all wanted?"

　The pain and fear contained in that lament were so real, as if the massacre he described had already occurred. For the King of Justice, known for his composure and majesty, his loss of composure had a profound impact on the dragons present. (The rest of the text appears to be nonsensical and unrelated to the previous sentences.)

　Suspicion and resentment seemed to be slowly flowing away from the dragons, replaced by fear and a certain firm resolve.

　Just then, a clear voice rang out from the other end of the basin. The slender silver dragon rose from the high stone platform. Hevilan, leader of the Claws of Justice, the most powerful silver dragon on the continent of Faerûn, without exception.

　"My friend," the Silver Dragon Paladin's voice was as clear as a silver bell, yet carried a divine power, "we have known each other for centuries, and I have never seen you do anything despicable or make any foolish decisions."

　She paused, a resolute glint in her molten silver dragon eyes: "If you say this is the only way, then the Claw of Justice will do everything in its power to help you."

　"Thank you," Lares said gratefully. He turned his head and looked down at the golden dragons beneath him. "I also hope to rely on you gentlemen."

　Tamarand's hesitation lasted only a moment. As the Dragon Lord, he understood Lares's dragonhood better than any other dragon. If even the King of Justice was so afraid of the impending dragon frenzy, then the seriousness of the situation might far exceed their imagination.

　"Of course, Your Excellency," Tamaland said solemnly, "We await your command."

　The other dragon lords also expressed their opinions, and the unity of the golden dragons was fully demonstrated at this moment.

　Chaturio snorted in Kara's ear, "Alright, that's it. With the gold and silver dragons joining forces, the other dragon species are as obedient as dogs..." He suddenly turned to Kara, a curious glint in his eyes, "Hey, why aren't you saying anything? Do you anthropomorphic dragons also agree with the gold dragons' idea?"

　Kara's tail swayed gently as she glanced sideways at the bronze dragon: "Didn't you claim to have attended three dragon gatherings?"

　"Yes, so what?" Chaturio puffed out his chest, clearly quite proud of his experience.

　"What," Kara's voice was laced with sarcasm, "you think a few minutes of discussion is enough to reach a conclusion?"

　"Huh? I..." Chaturio was speechless for a moment.